


Born Amid the Flames of Discontent

by Whatevergirl



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1980897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatevergirl/pseuds/Whatevergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based (sort of) on a prompt on Hobbit-kink (Post 3, page 10). </p><p>A Harry Potter AU; Thorin is the Gryffindor Golden Boy, leader of a group of 12 dwarves, known as The Company. Bilbo Baggins is a simply hobbit in his 6th year at Hogwarts, who does not associate with them until he is partnered up with Thorin in Care of Magical Creatures. </p><p>As Bilbo eventually gives his loyalty to Thorin, he gets swept along in their adventure against Smaug (who has stolen the Durin family heirloom) and Azog (who holds a grudge against Thorin after a fight went wrong and left him permanently scarred).</p><p>Of course, Bilbo seriously didn't plan on losing his heart to Thorin.</p><p>However, even in the dramatics of The Company, Bilbo finds he still has the support of Frodo, and (unexpectedly), Frodo's strange band of friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bilbo Baggins was an ordinary hobbit in many ways; he was small, enjoyed a good meal and wasn’t fond of adventures. Okay, so he was a wizard, but that wasn’t entirely unheard of for a hobbit. The fact there were less than 10 hobbits in the whole of Hogwarts did not make Bilbo any more unusual than the muggle hobbits he had thus far been raised around.

In his sixth year at Hogwarts, Bilbo had very much learnt to adapt to being a magical hobbit. His cousin Frodo was one as well, so when they went home to the Shire during the holidays, he wasn’t alone in being viewed as a bit odd. 

Frodo was in his fifth year, along with Samwise Gamgee and Meriadoc Brandybuck. Another one of his cousins, Peregrin Took was also in Hogwarts, in his fourth year. Merry and Pippin were both in Gryffindor so they were only seen during meal times (although the results of their pranks could often be heard at various points during any given week at some point in the castle).

Frodo and Sam, like Bilbo, were in Hufflepuff. They could often be found near the greenhouses, Sam happily helping Professor Radagast, with Frodo relaxed in whatever warm spot he could find. 

Bilbo, however, preferred to curl up with a book in front of the common room fire. He was often joined by Ori, another sixth year Hufflepuff. Ori was a dwarf, the younger brother of Dori and Nori, who were both seventh years. Dori was a Ravenclaw whose birthday was in September, just after the school year had started, and Nori was a Gryffindor who was born in July, just before they broke up for the summer holidays. Bilbo knew all about them because Ori talked about his family a lot. Bilbo didn’t really discuss his. 

His mother, Belladonna Baggins (nee Took) and his father, Bungo Baggins had both been muggle hobbits. His father had died when Bilbo had been 5 years old, and his mother had followed a year later. Their son had been raised by Drogo Baggins and Primula Baggins (nee Brandybuck), so Bilbo was used to Frodo disappearing off outside to read a book in the company of Samwise Gamgee without a word.

Of course, a lot of the other students didn’t really understand hobbit families. Trying to explain that a lot of families had at least 5 children and that most of the hobbits in the Shire were actually related in some way, was actually more difficult than it needed to be.

Ori had tried to listen once, when they had first discussed their families in their first year at Hogwarts, but Ori had looked so confused that Bilbo now tended to avoid talking about his.

Of course, Bilbo didn’t actually mind listening to Ori talk about his family. Ori and his brothers were part of The Company. Thorin Oakenshield and his close group of dwarrow friends were called The Company. There were only 12 of them, and excluding Ori, were all in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. 

They were all in their sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts, and Bilbo had always been quietly impressed. Naturally, he wanted nothing to do with them really, because they always seemed to get into trouble, but it seemed so interesting. Still, even though he was Ori’s friend, Bilbo had always been totally ignored by the Dwarves. Bilbo was unsure if it was because he was a hobbit, who often went unnoticed by other races, or because he was a Hufflepuff, and viewed as not as brave, smart or evil as other people and therefore weak (a phrase he had heard bandied about, unfortunately). 

Of course, this all changed one afternoon in spring, when Professor Thranduil announced they were going to be looking after salamanders for the rest of the school year and he was going to choose the pairs that everyone worked in. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had Care of Magical Creatures together, so although Bilbo edged over to stand beside Ori, he naturally got partnered up with Thorin.

He watched as Fili and Kili (a pair of dwarrow twins who were part of The Company) were split up. The blond got put with Ori, the other with Éomer (another Hufflepuff). There were a few other members of The Company in their class, but Bilbo couldn’t remember their names; he was too busy worrying about how he was going to pass this class when it would involve team work with a dwarf who was glaring daggers at him. He sighed and looked wistfully over at his friend.

“I have adapted the way the salamander flames work.” Their professor informed them, tilting his head slightly as he looked at them with his usual blank expression. “Once one salamander is born of the flames, you will not have any more. You simply need to care for your creature and keep the flame burning. Any questions?”

One of the dwarves raised his hand. 

“Yes, Bombur?”

“How often do we need to check on it?” The large dwarf looked worried already.

“I would suggest every six hours, but only up and until curfew. I will keep your charms going after then, but if I need to make adjustments overnight, it will be reflected in your marks.”

“What do they eat?” asked Déagol, his hand raised as he smiled gently at the elven teacher.

“I suggest you pick up a book and find that out. I expect you all to have your flames going and salamanders alive by this time next week. You have until the end of class to ask me any questions.” Professor Thranduil informed them, before turning and heading over to his moose.

“Umm… how do you want to do this?” Stuttered Bilbo nervously. 

“Do you know the charm required for keeping the flame going?”

“I’ve done it before, but not for very long.” He said, softly. 

“Then we shall have to work on that. I’m not putting all the effort into this.” Thorin replied, scowling down at the hobbit. “I’ll meet you after dinner outside the great hall and we can start practising.” 

Bilbo cringed and nodded his head. After dinner he liked to relax and wind down before bed, maybe get a bit of homework done. He had a feeling that spending time with Thorin would not be relaxing.

The dwarf in question turned and headed over to his friend (Dwalin, was it? Bilbo could never remember all the names of the people in his classes). He went and sat down on a soft patch of grass, lying back and enjoying the warmth of the sun. He would head to the library with Ori later, but they didn’t hang out if he was with the other dwarves. He wasn’t one of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Bilbo was sat in the quidditch stands, only vaguely paying attention to his transfiguration homework that Professor Beorn had set. It was extra-curricular work, but transfiguration was one of the hobbit’s best subjects. 

Beorn had decided that Bilbo would be able to find the animal within himself and bring it into existence. Basically, he wanted Bilbo to become an animagus. 

The 16 year old loved the idea, to become something else and be able to move around even more unnoticed by others than he already was. He had actually managed to transform half way into something, but he had gotten stuck. His professor had helped him back to his human self, but now referred to him as ‘Little Bunny’. Bilbo seriously hoped the animal he transformed into wasn’t actually a rabbit. He had wanted to be something at least slightly more impressive.

He heard cheering and looked up to see Frodo flying towards him.

“New record.” Cried his red-cheeked cousin, his eyes alive with the energy he often seemed to feel when he flew. “I caught it in less than a minute.”

“Well done, Frodo.” Bilbo smiled at him, trying to seem cheerful about this. 

Bilbo had not been on a broomstick since he had finished Professor Roäc’s flying classes in first year. He could cope with sitting on a branch in a tree, but he liked what he sat on to be attached to the ground.

“Éomer said he thinks we stand a chance against Ravenclaw this time.”

“He says that every single time. Besides, hasn’t Legolas just accepted Pippin onto his house team?”

“Yeah.” Frodo grinned widely at him. “I wish you and Sam would fly with me.”

“You have nearly all of your fellowship flying now anyway. It’s only Gimli, Sam and Merry who don’t bother. Quite rightly, I think.”

“I’d like it if you would play with me over the summer. Mother and Father would buy you a broom…”

“No, thank you. Dwarves share the opinion of most normal hobbits that we should keep our feet on the ground.” He teased. Frodo dropped down onto the bench beside him.

“Don’t worry, cousin. You’re good at other things.” Frodo stared at him, bright eyed and determined to bolster Bilbo’s self-confidence. “How’s the transforming going?”

“I’m going to try again tonight. I’ve been trying every night by myself after I get back from meeting with Thorin, but I’m not sure I want to do it. What if I get stuck again?”

“You’re asking for company here, right?” Bilbo glared at Frodo for a moment, so the younger hobbit changed the subject. “How is meeting with Thorin going?”

“Urgh.” Bilbo curled into himself. “It couldn’t be worse. He hates me.”

“Not according to Gimli.” Frodo leaned in and bumped their shoulders together. “He said Thorin talked about you a lot.”

“How would he know?” Bilbo pressed his hands to his face, already hating the idea that they had been talking about him.

“His older brothers, Óin and Glóin are part of the company, remember?

“Bet he says nothing good about me anyway.” Said the hobbit, but there was a slight blush on his face. 

Frodo said nothing, just cuddled into his cousin, one hand grasping at the chain around his neck. 

“If I go get changed quickly, can we go down to the Forbidden Forest and practice some transfiguration now?”

“Frodo Baggins, are you trying to get me in trouble?” he chuckled. After all, Beorn was not actually allowed to teach Bilbo how to be an animagus without approval from the ministry, which he did not have. However, the school’s headmaster, Professor Gandalf simply turned a blind eye to their lessons.

“Please?”

Of course, Bilbo could not deny his cousin anything. It was the reason he had given the young hobbit his ring, after all…. His precious ring. He had won it in a game of Wizard’s Chess when he had been in his first year against an older Slytherin boy. He should have lost, his game play had not been up to par, but his chess pieces were vicious, and when his opponent’s pieces came to take a spot, they were destroyed by Bilbo’s. Strictly speaking, no rules were broken, but it was considered very bad sportsmanship.

Sméagol had not forgiven him. He glared at the Hufflepuff every time he was in range.

But, when Bilbo had returned for Christmas that year, he had not expected his cousin to cling to him in such a desperate manner. He had realised he hadn’t even remembered a Christmas present for the boy, so he had given him the ring he’d won.

More often than he cared to admit, Bilbo dreamt that he had kept that ring for himself, that he could still hold the precious gold in between his fingertips, that he could still polish it, that he could still hear that odd whisper the ring sometimes had…

But no. Because he had given it to Frodo, and it had made Frodo happy.

“We’ll have to actually go into the Forbidden Forest. It’s too light still.”

Frodo grinned and jumped up. 

“I’ll meet you there then.” And hopping onto his broomstick, he flew off.

Bilbo headed out the quidditch pitch at a more sedate pace. It was a nice evening, the air was warm and the heavy rain of the day before had disappeared. He watched three human boys wander past him, a confident swagger to their steps. About a hundred yards behind them, a group of human girls were noisily stalking them, giggling away. 

Bilbo wondered if he was missing out on much by not having friends. He knew his family loved him, and his cousin’s odd group of friends kept the bullies away from him, but the closest Bilbo had to an actual friend was Ori. However, Ori had his own friends, and Bilbo was just someone he sat with in class.

The hobbit desperately wished he could be the sort of person who could go out and form close friendships with people. Sadly, he was someone everyone liked in a vague, passing sense of the word, but no one ever bothered to stop and get to know.

“Bilbo? Over here.” Frodo was already there, back in his school robes but with his broomstick still in his hand.

Bilbo remembered as he headed over to the boy why he had liked the idea of becoming an animal so much anyway. Professor Beorn had said that his mind might take comfort in things that others of its kind did.

For example, Beorn was actually a centaur, but he could become both a human and a bear. He said when he was a bear, he liked to roam the forest and when he was a human, he liked the comfort of a warm bed. As a centaur, he enjoyed astronomy, but it was a joy he shared with neither of his other forms.

Dropping his school satchel next to Frodo once they had headed out the sight of the school, Bilbo sat cross legged on a branch. Nearby, Frodo sat down and pulled out a book. He truly enjoyed his cousin’s company, the young hobbit didn’t try and interrupt him, or talk to him when he wanted quiet.

He remembered what his teacher had said, about bringing his animal’s form to the front of his mind. It was apparently so difficult for new animagi because they did not know the form of their animal… but Bilbo had a feeling he did.

A rabbit…

He glanced over at his cousin, the boy was reading, but his eyes flickered over to Bilbo every now and then. Good. If something went wrong, it would be noticed.

Bilbo shut his eyes and thought about the small body of a rabbit; the ears; the tail; the way they twitched… he considered their speed in hiding. They could fit down little holes in the ground. Hobbits normally lived in holes, Hogwarts hobbits excluded during term time, but their holes were not so small.

He felt as though his muscles were trying to move on their own, his pointed ear tips were twitching slightly, but he wasn’t there.

His pointed ears did, however, pick up the sound of chatter. He heard Frodo gasp and jump to his feet, and Bilbo curled in on himself.

“It’s The Company.” His cousin muttered, worry colouring his tone. Bilbo curled in smaller. He wasn’t prepared to meet any dwarves, especially not Thorin. He hadn’t combed his hair, and his school robes were probably a state! “Bilbo! You did it.”

“What are you doing out here?” Thorin’s voice permeated the tense air, and Bilbo kept his eyes shut, not wanting to look at the dwarf.

“Reading.” Two hands circled around Bilbo’s waist, picking him out. He would have yelled out an objection, but he found he couldn’t. He made a squeak, opened his eyes and found himself cradled against Frodo’s abnormally large body.

“It’s dangerous out here.” Thorin replied, irritation flooding his voice.

“Not for a hobbit.”

“Students aren’t allowed here.”

“I’m a prefect.” Bilbo blanched at the rocking motion as Frodo stepped forward. "Why are you here, Thorin Oakenshield?"

"I can be here. I'm a prefect and I am out for a walk with my friends." 

“You are. So is Balin. No one else in your _Company_ there is. Aragorn is Gryffindor’s seventh year male prefect. Faramir is Ravenclaw’s sixth year prefect. So there is no other slots open.” Bilbo hated to imagine his cousin’s smug look. Frodo did not like it when those in charge of enforcing rules broke them.

“What’s this rabbit for?” and rough pair of hands suddenly pulled Bilbo away from his cousin’s comforting scent, and he squeaked loudly.

“Give him back!” Frodo sounded upset, so Bilbo bit the person holding him. He hit the ground, and bolted back to his cousin, who pulled him close. His hands were warm and he was a gentle creature.

Having a hand running over his fur was actually very soothing. 

“Serves you right, Dwalin.” Snapped Frodo.

“Tell your cousin to be at Professor Thranduil’s on time tonight.” Thorin said, and Bilbo could see he had put himself between the hobbit and his friend.

Frodo didn’t answer, he simply picked up Bilbo’s book bag, his own broomstick and Bilbo’s furry self, before heading deeper into the forest.

Frodo had, at least, been speaking the truth when he had said that the forest wasn’t dangerous for hobbits. Hobbits, after all, were little creatures with a magic of their own. Their ability to go unnoticed surpassed that of any human or dwarf; they were better at hiding than even elves. Plus, the forest welcomed them. 

Both hobbits and elves were magical creatures who came from forests. The trees were fond of them, and they spoke to them. The Ents too were friendly creatures and they tried to look after any students who entered Fangorn Forest on the request of Professor Gandalf.

“Bilbo?” Frodo’s soft voice cut into his cousin’s musings. “Do you know how to change back?”

Bilbo wriggled his nose and tried to undo what he had done to himself. He tried to imagine himself, his small body and his curly hair… but it was difficult. He liked the idea of being a rabbit, so small and unnoticed. People liked rabbits. They were cuddled and fed and looked after. No one looked at a rabbit and declared it ugly.

Bilbo was aware he wasn’t exactly a handsome hobbit. By the standards of men and elves, he was too small. Dwarves viewed him as unusual and unattractive because he was all soft skin… smooth, hairless skin… lacking muscles. Thorin was a beautiful dwarf who would never look twice at a hobbit like him… he wasn’t even attractive to other hobbits. They already viewed him as weird for being so keen to leave the Shire to go to Hogwarts, but he was also skinnier than any other hobbit (a result of 3 meals a day, instead of 7, though the house elves were always keen to ply him with more food). 

“Bilbo? Please?” Bilbo looked up into his cousin’s watery blue eyes.

He had to change back, he realised. Frodo would not be happy if he stayed like this. He considered his own body, he thought about curling up in front of the fire in their common room, or chatting with Ori about whatever homework they had.

He thought about the Shire, and how he actually had to get back there before he could go and explore the lands in rabbit form.

Suddenly, changing back was easy. He felt his bones shift and slide, muscles warping to keep up with the growth of his body. Soon, he was sat on the forest floor, Frodo in his lap, arms wrapped tightly around him.

“I’m alright, boy. Don’t worry so.” He said calmly, running a hand through his cousin’s dark curls. 

“I was scared you wouldn’t come back.”

“I’m not leaving you yet, but we do need to get to dinner. Come on.”

He stood on shaky legs and trotted out the forest and towards the great hall, a sudden hunger clenching his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

Bilbo sighed as he ground up the dried pepper into powder. Sat beside the forest with several members of their Care of Magical Creatures class, he couldn’t help thinking about how enjoyable it was to run in the forest. 

He’d been out three times since he had first managed to transform. It was wonderful.

Bilbo took a deep breath and sighed. The scent coming in off the trees reminded him of the Shire, when the north-easterly wind took the smell of spring from the trees in the old Buckland Forest and towards Hobbiton. 

He wondered what it would be like to go and run through the Buckland Forest, whether or not the other animals would welcome him amongst them as a rabbit. He often sat by the edge of the forest as a hobbit, playing with whatever animals came to him there, but he had never actually entered it. No hobbit did. 

There were rumours that the trees were alive had kept them from entering the forest. Of course, Bilbo was now aware that trees were alive, and that Ents lived there too. He wondered if the Buckland Forest was anything like Fangorn Forest; apparently there were werewolves and all sorts living in there.

“You’re supposed to be grinding that up.” A low voice said from just behind Bilbo, making him jump.

“What?” he yelped. “Sorry, what?”

“Those peppers. You’ve been sat staring into the forest for a while now.”

Bilbo’s relationship with Thorin was still frosty. The dwarf clearly viewed him as some kind of daydreaming fool. 

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about the Forest near my home. The animals will have just given birth and their younglings will be exploring their new world.”

“The Forest near my home is old. It’s filled with acromantula.”

“I didn’t think dwarves lived in forests.” Said Bilbo, curiously.

“I didn’t say that.” Thorin scowled at him, causing Bilbo to shrink down. “I live in Erebor, under the mountain. Mirkwood is close by though.”

“Mirkwood?” asked Bilbo, sitting up. “I’ve never heard of it.” Which was irritating. Bilbo loved maps, he had dozens, just of the Shire; he probably had hundreds of middle earth though, going back through the ages. He had though the only Forest near Erebor was the vast Greenwood.

“It’s not an official name.”

“The Greenwood, then?” asked Bilbo, smiling slightly.

“Yes.”

“The Lonely Mountain.” Bilbo wondered what it was like there, deep in the mountain. He wondered what the dwarrow halls looked like. He looked up at Thorin and debated whether or not to ask if he was Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór. The scowl on his face put him off, and he returned to grinding up pepper.

While nothing else was said between them that evening, something changed. Bilbo found that Thorin was no longer quite so cold to him. Several times, Thorin had rolled his eyes at something Professor Thranduil had said, and Bilbo had thrilled at being included in his good humour. 

The other dwarves of The Company in their Care of Magical Creatures class no longer kept their distance. While they sat looking after their salamander on an evening, the other dwarves would join them. Dwalin would stand near to Thorin as he scowled at Déagol, who was struggling to keep their flame going.

Secretly, Bilbo was glad that he didn’t have to be near Déagol. Not only was he Sméagol’s cousin, but he was one of the banished river folk. Apparently, Professor Gandalf didn’t care who attended his school, because Bilbo had heard all about how they were kin slayers from the hobbits of the Shire.

Fíli and Kíli were friendly. They sat next to Bilbo and would chatter to him about anything that came to mind. Kíli and Éomer’s salamander had died a few days ago, so Éomer had happily gone back to concentrating on quidditch. Ori and Fíli’s salamander was looking pale, and they were struggling to keep the flame going. Once, Thranduil had had to charm their flame during the night, costing the two some points.

Bilbo assumed that Bombur and Glóin (he could now actually put names to faces with some of the dwarves) had both lost their creatures, because they never seemed to do any work on an evening either.

However, they all sat around and chatted away, sometimes ignoring Bilbo, but generally including him. Bilbo learnt an awful lot more about Thorin than he had ever know.

He found out that although Thorin said he lived in Erebor, he had actually been banished. One of the small, sentient drakes had found its way into the mountain and stolen some kind of heirloom for its hoard. Thorin had been the one in the treasury at the time, and so was blamed for failing to keep it safe.

Bilbo had found the idea horrific. Thorin was not an adult yet, so to have been banished since before he had even started at Hogwarts was beyond his understanding. Bilbo couldn’t think of anyone in the Shire banishing a child just because they lost a jewel to something a dangerous as a dragon. 

He found out that Thorin’s older sister, Dís had left the mountain and had taken her brother and her sons with her. Bilbo had not been surprised to learn that Fíli and Kíli were related to Thorin. All the dwarves of The Company seemed to be related in one way or another.

He enjoyed listening to their banter though. He joined in laughing when they mocked Glóin for having an elf-friend for a twin and he made little comments of his own when they were talking about different pranks they could pull on people. Though, he didn’t encourage them to prank his cousin or any of his friends. Merry and Pippin were inventive when they needed to be and could be very well motivated by vengeance.

Best of all though, Thorin now nodded his head whenever he caught Bilbo’s eye in the corridors. Sometimes, he even managed a little smile. Bilbo couldn’t quite explain the feelings that shot through his body when this happened… or what it did to him when he dreamt at night.

Now, when he met Thorin’s eye, he had a tendency to blush.


	4. Chapter 4

It was during yet another evening with their salamander that it happened. Thorin and the Company met. It wasn’t just another gathering of various dwarves who decided to come and see what Thorin was up to; this was a meeting of the Company. Bilbo had learnt the difference when he was Frodo and his Fellowship meet up in a more official manner.

Bilbo had been lying on his belly, idly flicking his wander to make the flame dance as Thorin stood scowling up at the path. First came Dwalin, sitting down and letting out a gruff acknowledgement when a house elf popped up to deliver food.

As Balin turned up, greeting his brother with a grin, another house elf brought more food. As more and more dwarves turned up, bringing more and more food, Bilbo noticed something. His eyes flickered up when he caught sight of something in the woods. 

The dwarves were eating noisily, laughing and joking with no concern for being caught. Then Bilbo saw someone walking in the woods, wearing a long grey robe and holding a staff. It was Professor Gandalf. 

Bilbo jumped to his feet, letting out a squawk as he did so. It was only the headmaster’s quick hand that saved his flame from flickering out in his shock.

“Professor!” He said, hoping he didn’t look as terrified as he felt. 

“Bilbo Baggins.” Gandalf greeted, a warm smile twitching across his lips. He didn’t seem remotely bothered that there were a group of students blatantly breaking the school rules, for the sun had long since set and curfew had fallen nearly an hour ago.

“Professor!” He heard one of the dwarves yelp behind him, though which he was not sure.

“Care to join us, professor?” asked Kíli with a bold smile.

“Is that bread and butter pudding? You know, I think I will.” And the old wizard accepted a plate and allowed the dwarves to load it up before heading to the back of the group to sit with Bilbo. 

The headmaster sat beside the young hobbit, chuckling as he watched the dwarves get louder and louder. They moved into a deep discussion about taking on a man named Smaug. 

“Have you not learnt yet?” sighed Gandalf, sounding disappointed. “He is no man.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bilbo quietly, wrapping his arms around his knees as he curled into himself.

“He is a man, like any other.” Snarled Thorin. “He is an animagus though, and can transform into a dragon. We have been researching spells to stop this though.”

“He is a dragon who can transform into a plan. Your spells won’t work.” The professor informed them.

“Dragon? An actual dragon?” Bilbo gaped up at him, horrified at the idea that _dragons_ still existed.

“We can’t take on a dragon, laddie. We will need to change our plan.” Balin said, turning a thoughtful gaze onto Thorin.

“If it is just the heirloom you wish to reclaim, I would suggest sneaking in.” Gandalf spoke up again. 

“Heirloom? What heirloom?” Bilbo asked, feeling awkward. He had nothing but useless questions to contribute. 

“If he is an actual dragon then he will know our scent.” Thorin shook his head. “I will not risk my friends so easily against a dragon.”

“In two years, you will all have finished Hogwarts. I suggest waiting till then before making any definitive plans. You may find you have more options then.” His blue eyes twinkled down at Bilbo for a moment, before he stood and disappeared back into the dark.

“Now that the headmaster has gone, how about a spot of ale?” Suggested Dori cheerfully. 

A mug was thrust into Bilbo’s hands, and the hobbit looked hesitantly at it. He sipped lightly at the liquid, before pulling a face. While there was a fruity taste to it, the drink was a little too bitter.

The dwarves seemed to find no such objection, guzzling it down it the rude manner they ate. Bilbo kept sipping at his own drinking, not wanting the Company to find any reason to single him out now that he was being included in their merriment.

The dwarves then started humming, a low droning tune. With their faces lit only by the fire light, the dwarves began to sing of dungeons deep in the Misty Mountains. They were made by spells of the dwarves of old and contained dark things. The Company sang of dragon fire, and Bilbo wondered sleepily if it was Smaug.

He dozed off to their song, the day catching up to him and he fell into slumber. The hobbit didn’t stir when the dwarves finished their singing and began to leave. He didn’t wake when Thorin picked him up and carried him through the grounds and up to the castle. He was unaware that Ori lead Thorin into their dormitory and allowed the dwarf to settle Bilbo on top of his blankets. 

He knew of nothing until the next day, when he yawned and rolled over, breathing in the smell of porridge. As his eyes opened, they focussed on the face of a house elf. It was standing by the edge of his bed, holding a tray.

“Master Baggins needs to eat.” He said. 

“Oh, thank you.” Muttered Bilbo as he sat up. 

The house elf placed the food ladened tray on the table by his bed and bowed deeply before disapparating. Bilbo smiled softly at the spot where the house elf had been. They always turned up if a hobbit missed a meal. They were aware hobbits needed more food and so were careful to make sure they ate enough. 

He crossed his legs and placed the tray in front of him. He was going to be late for class at this rate, but he wasn’t going to miss breakfast.

\------

It was during lunch hour that Bilbo made his way of to the Ravenclaw table, which was where the Company were eating their meals. 

“I just… I wanted to say…” Bilbo stuttered nervously as Thorin looked down at him. “That… if you need someone who can sneak in place… I may not be good at much, but I can be unseen when I want to be.” 

He kept his eyes on his feet, wriggling his toes as he waited for a response. 

“When we leave, we’ll find you a pony.” Replied Thorin, his face serious. It was only Fíli and Kíli chortling with laughter that let Bilbo know Thorin was joking with him… at least he hoped so. He was not a skilled rider by any stretch of the imagination.

He turned to head over to the Hufflepuff table when various hands grabbed him and pulled him back. 

“Have some lunch, laddie.” Balin said kindly, making Bilbo smile as he finally began to feel accepted by the dwarves.


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you suppose house elves are related in some way to wood elves?” mused Bilbo, one sunny afternoon in June. He was chewing on his lip as he stared thoughtfully down at the quiz he had been given by Professor Thranduil; it was on different species and their magical abilities. 

“Oh, sure.” Kíli grinned at him broadly. “It’s just that many years ago, one tribe of elves decided to stay out and sing to the trees and another tribe decided it was a bit too cold for that and went inside.”

“I hear they visited the Shire and went into the hobbit holes, which is why they are so short.” Fíli added, though he managed to keep a serious expression on his face for a few moments longer.

“Truly?” Bilbo gaped at them for a moment, before Fíli’s face cracked. “Oh, bother. Don’t do that.”

But he was laughing as he reached out a hand to push Kíli’s grinning face away. 

“Has Thorin asked you yet?” asked Fíli suddenly, leaning close and whispered softly. 

“Asked me what?” Bilbo replied, his face flushing slightly as his imagination shot off with a burst; Thorin was handsome, after all.

“If you are going to come with us during the village trip at the weekend.”

“He’s not mentioned it.” He couldn’t deny the disappointment trickling through him. He liked the idea of hanging out with them over the weekend. He was enjoying the novelty of having friends. 

“Huh… Maybe he changed his plans. Forget I said anything…”

But Bilbo couldn’t. Later on that evening, while he was sat in the library working on his homework, he wondered if Thorin had wanted to spend the weekend with him. Curled up in one of the comfortable armchairs in a corner, he imagined what it would be like to spend a day with the other teenager focussed on having a good time rather than work.

It was actually quite hard to imagine. For all that Bilbo now got to spend time with the Company outside of class, Thorin still hadn’t warmed to him. The dwarf still scowled in his direction on a frequent basis, as though annoyed that he was there.

Frodo was thrilled that Bilbo now had friends though. He grinned and laughed every time Bilbo tried to awkwardly explain to his younger cousin what he had been up to. Of course, in response Frodo told him what he’d been up to with his Fellowship. There were things he didn’t want to hear about, plans that seemed far too exciting for any hobbit, but Bilbo wrote them all down and gave his cousin strict instructions to document any sort of adventure he might go on. Bilbo promised to record anything interesting he might do, so that they could tell the younger hobbits of the Shire that there was a life beyond farms and gardens and their pleasant but simple life there.

Bilbo’s first chance for a tale came during the visit to the nearby village. While Thorin hadn’t asked him to come, Kíli, Fíli and Ori insisted on it. They headed down to bar where they could sit and chat, while grumbling that none of them were old enough to buy any ale or beer. 

They spoke of what they knew of dragons who could transform into humans, which wasn’t very much; then they decided to spend time in the library. Bilbo and Thorin had less time though because their salamander was still alive and they were having to check on it at regular intervals. 

Later on, they took a walk through the woods, still laughing and having fun. Unfortunately, it was getting dark and most definitely past the time they were supposed to be back at the castle.

“It’s really late.” Said Bilbo to Bofur who was walking beside him. The seventh year turned to look down at him.

“Don’t worry. We never go back just yet.”

“It’s against the school rules.” Bilbo hissed, nervously wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“Don’t worry, lad. It’s fine.” Glóin reassured him.

Bilbo let out a nod and stopped talking. He was admittedly relieved though, when they decided to stop for a rest and to light a fire. Despite his walking holidays, he was tired. He usually went at a somewhat slower pace.

Bilbo watched miserably as Óin and Glóin struggled to keep their bewitched flame alight; they bickered noisily over the correct wand movements required for the fairly simple charm.

“What’s that over there?” asked Balin, pointing to a flickering light some distance away. 

They squinted, trying to see without moving out from under the precipitation repellent charm that Ori had erected.

“We should go and see who it is.” Said Fíli.

“No, we shouldn’t. After dark, folks aren’t always too friendly.” Objected Bofur.

“We’re too close to the mountains. You don’t get many travellers this way, even in summer.” Nori spoke up.

“We have a hobbit with us. He can go.” Dori said, turning to look at Bilbo, who shrank back against the tree trunk he was sitting against.

“No, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He whimpered. “We should stay together.”

“Nonsense.” Dwalin turned to look down at him. “He’s only small anyway. They might not see him.”

“No, please…” Bilbo whispered. Bifur said something then, though if it was in his favour, Bilbo could not tell. Bifur had a hand axe buried in his head; there was some enchantment on it that meant to could not speak common, so Bilbo could only communicate with him through looks and gestures.

“He promised to sneak for us, so that is what he shall do.” Thorin spoke up, his deep voice speaking words that made Bilbo tremble. 

He did not argue though; the hobbit took to his feet and very lightly treaded closer to the fire. He was thankful that hobbits could move absolutely quietly when necessary; it was something they took pride in.

“Mutton yesterday, mutton today and blimey if it don’t look like mutton again tomorrer.” 

There were three large trolls sat around a fire, one slowly turning a spit over it. Bilbo winced as he crept into a good spot in the shadows. There was a smell about the placed; it reeked of alcohol, which the trolls seemed to be drinking from very large mugs. 

“We haven’t had a blinking bit of manflesh in long enough.” One of them moaned. “What William was a-thinking of bringing us down ‘ere…”

“Shut yer mouth.” Choked William. “You can’t go expecting folk to come down ‘ere just to be et by you an’ Burt.”

Bilbo ought to have gone back to the Company and this point; he certainly wanted to, but his limbs had frozen in position, refusing to let him scamper. As the trolls stood up and wandered over to the barrel to refill their mugs, one of them spotted the hobbit.

“’Ere, who are you?”

“Blimey! Burt! Look what I’ve copped up!”

“What are ye?”

“I’m a wiz—hobbit.” Said Bilbo, changing his mind while speaking. Trolls were not renowned for their kindness to wizards, who possessed more magic than them, more brains and a better ability to use both. Hobbits, on the other hand, were gentle creatures who were either ignored or looked upon as a naïve and simple folk who were no real danger.

“A wizpoppit?” The troll holding him pulled a face. “Like the fireworks?”

“Sounds more like food to me.” Said another. “Maybe we can cook ‘im.”

“There’s barely anything there. If we find some more, perhaps we can make a pie.”

“’Ere, are there any more of you bunnies around?” asked the trolls, plucking at Bilbo’s foot hair as he asked.

“Ow! Yes, loads… I mean, no. Just me.” He didn’t want to give his friends away.

“You said ‘yes’!” said one of them, indignantly.

“Oh, leave off Tom. He said ‘no’.”

“I’m not leavin’ off nuthin, Bill. He said ‘yes’ first.”

“What I meant… was that there are loads of rabbits. Awfully difficult to catch though.” Bluffed Bilbo.

“Well, I’ve caught him. I’m at least going to have this one.” Said Tom, glaring at the other trolls.

“What if there are more wizpoppit rabbits? I don’t want them cutting me throat while I’m a-sleepin’.” Said Burt, a note of worry in his voice.

“You’re a fat fool and I won’t ‘ave you causing bother.” William said.

“Well, you’re a mean lout.” Whined Tom. The troll dropped him as they began to roll around near the fire, kicking and thumping. Bilbo tried to scramble away, but he was dizzy from being squeezed till he couldn’t breathe, his feet throbbed from having patches of hair pulled out and he ached from being dropped. 

Suddenly, as Bilbo lay panting on the floor, he heard a cry of “Get a sack, quick!” Looking up, he had just enough time to catch a glimpse of Balin’s face before it was covered.

“There’s no more wizpoppit’s, but there seem to be dwarves about.” Said Burt, an ugly grin spreading over his face.

“Let’s get out the light. We can surprise anymore that come looking.” Said William, picking up their barrels of beer. The others followed, picking up their various sacks of plunder and Balin. Bilbo had enough wits about him to transfigure into a rabbit and hide in the shadows. His animal instincts were telling him to run and hide, but he refused to leave without helping Balin.

The trolls captured the dwarves in this way with embarrassing ease. First Balin, then Dwalin; Fíli and Kíli came and were caught together, as were Nori and Ori. Dori soon followed, as did Glóin and Óin. Then Bifur, Bofur and Bombur were also in sacks.

“What’s going on?” a strong voice asked softly enough that the trolls didn’t hear, and Bilbo felt some tension leave him. Thorin was here.

Bilbo squeaked, but although Thorin glanced at him, he didn’t recognise the rabbit as Bilbo.

“Aren’t you Bilbo’s cousin’s rabbit?” he crouched down in front of Bilbo, who took the opportunity to scamper back a few paces. Thorin followed, and the new position allowed him to catch a glimpse of the trolls. 

It was only a moment’s advantage, but it allowed Thorin a chance to fight back. Unfortunately, his wand was knocked out of his hand and a sack as dropped over his head. Bilbo quivered with fear for his friends as he watched the trolls move back to the fire.

He grabbed Thorin’s wand lightly between his teeth before he hopped back over to the trolls; very lightly as he didn’t fancy biting too far into it and setting off any accidental magic.

He moved slowly over to the sacks and placed the wand down, then he took a deep, shuddering breath and moved closer to the trolls.

“Look, rabbit.” Said Burt.

“Let’s add it in.” Tom grinned as William groaned “There’s enough in.”

But the two trolls began to chase Bilbo around their camp and so William joined in too. Bilbo didn’t dare glance up as he ran, he could bear to look and see if the sun wasn’t as close to up as he needed it to be. Thank goodness it was mid-June and the nights were short; and thank goodness for Professor Thranduil and his quizzes. Bilbo knew he only had to go till dawn before they turned to stone. Behind him, the trolls were back to arguing, even as they chased him.

“But I want to sit on the one with the yellow stockings.”

“You can have the one with grey.”

“You wanted the last one. He had blue stockings on.”

“No, he had yellow.”

“Oh, stop it! The night’s getting on and dawn comes early. Let’s get on with it.”

“The dawn will take you all, and be stone to you.” Called out a voice that filled Bilbo’s exhausted body with hope.

The sun’s rays peaked through the trees and the trolls were frozen in position. Stepping out from behind a tree, Professor Gandalf grinned in relief at the thirteen sacked dwarves. He stepped forward to unbind them and then picked Bilbo’s tired bunny form up.

“I will be having words with you boys, I think.” He said, a serious look falling over his face. “This was very foolish.”

“Bilbo! Professor, where is Bilbo?” called out Kíli and Fíli, concern etched into their faces.

“He is quite safe now.” Replied Gandalf as he petted Bilbo’s fur. 

“He is probably hiding in his bed, shaking with fear.” Spat Thorin, clearly annoyed to hear Bilbo wasn’t seriously injured, for why else should he not have come back for them? 

The hobbit in question simply relaxed against the head teacher, drowsily enjoying the warmth. 

“Back to Hogwarts now.” Gandalf simply said. “We’ll talk when you have rested.”

As the dwarves set off, Gandalf stopped to wave his wand at the bulging sacks of plunder the trolls had had.

“Maybe we can find something useful for you in there, my dear, brave boy.”


End file.
